Monday, July 9, 2007

at the western edge of civilization, a river rolls below the highway. trees instead of skyscrapers, and birdsong and the mosquito hum of wet marsh and the stink of slow-moving water replicates the way the world used to be.

on the other side of this lonely road, the highway has already brought the hilltakers.

also, i think i see where the trolls res their heads, but none came looking for me.